Folding Socks
by Archaeological
Summary: Sending a kid to Yuuei is no small feat for a single mother, so when Tokio's daughter was expelled by her homeroom teacher along with the rest of her classmates, it was no wonder that neither took it well. It was also no wonder that said mother overreacted when he showed up at the café where she worked. Things only went downhill from then. [Canon divergent as of chapter 254]
1. Americano

I was reading the beginning of BNHA, when All Might thinks of Aizawa expelling an entire class the previous year, and I thought, what happened to those kids? Those families?

Then this idea popped in my mind. And I don't know how the other nineteen families fared, but I have a slight idea of how one did.

Also, I'll admit that I just wanted an excuse to poke fun at Aizawa. What the heck, man.

Updates will be sporadic, since I'm working on several fics at once, but I figured this has been collecting dust in my hard drive for far too long and someone may enjoy it.

* * *

 **Americano**

There is no greater dream for a kid leaving middle school than to enroll in Yuuei's hero course, and no greater pride for a parent than having their kid admitted in it.

Tokio Nakajima, lowly manager of the café next to the central police station, burst into the shop with plum hairs sticking out of the sloppy bun she'd managed that morning in her overexcitement. She waved a paper in the air as she beamed and yelled at the top of her lungs, 'My Kanade made Yuuei!'

Coworkers and customers alike congratulated her, because they had known Kanade since she was a wee little kid and were genuinely happy for her, and Tokio was told to fix her hair before she got it in someone's coffee.

When April rolled around, Tokio waved her daughter goodbye at their doorstep, and tried to ignore the feeling of nostalgia that assaulted her upon seeing her clad in her new school uniform. She left for work with a spring in her step, knowing that Kanade had a bright future ahead of her, and she was there to make sure she didn't follow in mom's footsteps and screwed everything up.

From then on, Kanade came home every day completely exhausted, but she did not complain, and it wasn't rare to find her training in her room after school hours.

Tokio felt like she had accomplished something, too. Life went on as usual for her, but her daughter's success kept her so happy that greeting the same customers every day and taking the same orders as always felt almost exciting.

It was a short-lived sensation.

One day, before the month was over, she got to the small flat where they lived to find Kanade crying inconsolably against one of the couch's pillows.

Unable to get her words through her sobs, Kanade shoved an envelope at her mother and cried harder.

The infuriatingly generic letter said that the homeroom teacher had deemed Kanade's entire class unfit for hero work and expelled them in mass, and Tokio stood in the middle of her living room dumbfounded, reading over and over the letter, wondering how that was even allowed, and wishing not for the first time that motherhood came with a guidebook that explained how to manage these situations.

She settled for sitting next to her daughter and embracing her, saying that her teacher was a disgrace and that she'd contact the other kids' parents to speak to the school staff. Surely there would be a way to sort out this mess.

—

There was no salvaging the situation.

Twenty sets of indignant parents filled principal Nedzu's office, only to hear empty apologies and excuses about how he didn't necessarily agree with the teacher's decision, but he was in his right to do it and he could not overturn his decision.

It was bollocks, and Tokio, who was already prone to distrust men, decided to add rodents to that assessment, too.

From then on, in the Nakajima household, the name Shouta Aizawa became synonymous with everything that was wrong with the world.

At work, she developed a habit of scrubbing counters with unconcealed fury, took out her bad mood against the coffee machine, and volunteered to knead the dough for the pastries just to have an excuse to punch something. It was slightly unsatisfying, since she'd never seen the man's face and couldn't imagine it as she beat down the innocent dough, but it was still better than keeping it inside. Her coworkers and some of the regulars knew what had transpired, and everybody joined into badmouthing the teacher when they had a moment to spare because it seemed to cheer her up. They also tried to make Kanade feel better, so every day Tokio went home with a handful of sweets and pastries that she had been given for her daughter.

At home, she did her best to cheer Kanade up while they found her another school to transfer to, but she was oddly quiet before her mother's attempts. Unable to bring her out of her melancholic mood, Tokio's worry towards her Kanade kept growing.

"You know, mom," she said quietly one day, pausing from eating a bowl of cereal with a blank expression, "I always thought you were jaded because of dad, but you were right."

"What do you mean?" Tokio asked, somewhat afraid of the answer.

Kanade's face showed some expression for the first time in days, and it was a mix of disgust and anger that had no business on a fifteen year old's face. "Men are scum."

Like mother, like daughter.

—

Sometime in early May, Tokio walked into the café for an afternoon shift, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders after finding another school for Kanade. It hadn't been hard, because a Yuuei dropout was still someone who had been good enough to get into Yuuei in the first place, and smaller schools took what they could. It was private, but Tokio would take a crying bank account over a crying daughter. They'd had plenty of advice from the patrons before they made their choice, and for that, she had been immensely grateful.

'Respite,' as the owner of the café had seen fit to name it, being in the building right next to the police station, saw its fair share of policemen on their break and off duty heroes every day. Like a bittersweet reminder of what could have been, Tokio met them every day for years, come rain or shine, saying hello with a smile and preparing drinks she'd memorized a long time ago.

It was easy. It was comfortable. It wasn't what she had wanted in life, but at thirty-two and with no studies, she felt too old to be idealistic.

She put the lid on a disposable cup and handed it to the hero on the other side of the counter while the coffee machine behind her kept filling another order.

This one was Present Mic, who sometimes stopped to make small talk with the staff, unlike most heroes. Tokio had started to listen to his radio show after thinking he seemed awfully friendly and had ended up a loyal follower. Against her better judgment, sometimes she pulled all-nighters listening until the end of the program.

"Here! Your café au lait," Tokio said with a smile. "Is that all?"

He peered through the glass under the counter, where another employee had just placed a fresh batch of muffins. Tokio smiled knowingly and took a pair of tongs and a paper bag to pick up one.

"Blueberry?"

"You know it," Present Mic replied, and turned to his companion.

The scruffy-looking man that had come into the café with him and hadn't ordered anything looked at them with disinterest. Tokio hadn't seen him around before, but she guessed that if the delicious smell wafting from muffins hadn't done the trick to make him buy, nothing would.

Present Mic, however, seemed to think it was worth a try. "What about you, Eraser?"

Tokio's arm went rigid as she held the bag over the counter and Mic placed some change on it.

"I'll pass."

"Your loss."

Tokio, realizing she'd been staring during the short exchange, asked as she picked up the money, "Eraser? As in, Eraserhead?"

The man looked at her, perplexed. He only said, "Yeah."

"Are you a fan?" Mic asked. "People don't usually know who he is."

Tokio blanked at the sheer wrongness of the question, and said after a pause, "Just heard about him from someone else."

"Mic, we're late to the meeting," Eraserhead urged him.

"I know," he grumbled, and waved at Tokio with the bag. "See ya, Nakajima!"

Both men walked out the door.

There was a time when Tokio had been a woman of action. She'd been younger and much less caring about consequences, and though motherhood had forcefully put a damper on many of those impulses, sometimes she relapsed.

This case was exceptional, though, in that she relapsed because of motherhood.

She took the coffee behind her that was sitting ready for the next customer and jumped over the counter without spilling a drop to pursue the two heroes.

Once on the street, she saw that they hadn't gone far, and without a moment's hesitation, she set her eyes on Eraserhead and activated her quirk.

Present Mic kept walking and talking before noticing that his friend had fallen behind.

"Weren't you the one in a hu—huh?!"

Eraserhead had been caught mid-step when Tokio's quirk activated, and his movements had been comically slowed to a crawl, practically freezing him in position.

"You are Shota Aizawa, right?" Tokio asked loudly, unblinking, giving him one last generous opportunity to avoid his fate.

Visibly annoyed, he said, "Lady, this is illegal usage of a qui—"

She exploded and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You expelled my daughter from Yuuei!"

While Mic's eyes and mouth silently turned to circles in the background, Eraserhead, unfazed by the woman in an apron yelling at him, turned on his quirk as well and regained mobility. Tokio became even more offended when he erased her power.

"So what if I—" He began.

She understood. She knew the type. He would not even make an attempt to apologize. Tokio didn't believe in mercy when faced with unrepentant douchiness, so she flung the projectile in her hand at the cry of, "Erase this, fucker!"

The coffee cup seemed to fly in slow motion even without her quirk in effect while the three people on the scene stayed rooted in place, watching it draw a brown-colored arch in the air, and all those years of hero training didn't save Eraserhead when Tokio activated her quirk again as he tried to sidestep the cup. Pinned in place, the scalding-hot Americano collided with the target.

In one final grand gesture, she stuck out her middle finger and ran back inside the café to keep working until she was murdered or arrested, whichever came first.

Regardless of the consequences, it had been absolutely worth it.


	2. Espresso

No Aizawa in this chapter, but he'll be back in the next one to stay.

* * *

 **Espresso**

Soy milk on the cappuccino, cream on the latte, half an espresso to pour in the latte macchiato, boiling water for the sencha…

Dexterous hands manned the coffee maker and several pots, eyes dancing from order to order and maybe surreptitiously slowing down the machine so no cups spilled. Tokio set the drinks on a counter beside her while another waitress passed them to the customers waiting in front of the cash register.

It was a good way to spend the rush hours. She didn't need to think about anything but the drinks, and she didn't feel the obligation to make small talk with anybody. Patrons who tried to talk when she was in a hurry made her long for death.

But having her back to the bar had one added benefit the last couple of days, which was that she could ignore the overt staring of the customers since it had become public knowledge that she had thrown an Americano at that hero who most of them didn't even know, but dude, who does that anyway? Heroes are cool. Heroes are respected members of society.

Tokio's coworkers supplied to anybody interested that it wasn't actually some random hero, but the one who expelled Kanade from school, and they became much more sympathetic at that, if slightly concerned for her security.

All things considered, whispering aside, it wasn't half as bad as it could have. One of the police inspectors that grabbed his coffee from the Respite every day before work made Tokio sit with him the next morning, gave her a warning and made her promise not to do it again. She had gotten off the hook with a mere slap on the wrist because, on one hand, it was her first offence, and on the other, the entire police station found hilarious that a waitress had hit a professional hero with a hot drink for being a jerkwad.

Upon hearing that, Tokio had to wonder how many police officers' secret dreams she had unintentionally fulfilled with that throw. She had heard through the grapevine that some heroes were pretty hard to work with, so she asked a friend about it a few days after the fact.

"Eraserhead?" She repeated while taking her coffee from Tokio. "No, I don't have anything on him. He usually works alone and is very professional. Somewhat asocial, though."

Sekiji was another regular, a police officer around Tokio's age that had recently been promoted to inspector. She had been new to the police force when Tokio had just started working at the café, and they'd become sort of friends along the years. They only met there, but they kept up with each other's lives, and it always felt odd to Tokio when Sekiji had a day off and didn't show up.

Tokio didn't have many days off.

"Professional?" Tokio repeated, hugging the empty tray against her torso with a hand. "How is it professional to expel an entire class of kids?"

Sekiji smiled and tousled her short brown hair nervously. Something glinted on her ear. "You know how some people aren't cut out to deal with kids."

"Then he should quit, not crush their dreams," Tokio retaliated, letting out a huff and deflating. She knew there was no use crying over spilled milk, but she had the feeling that this was going to sting for a long time. She decided to change the subject. "New earrings?"

Sekiji's smile became more genuine, and she pulled her hair back to show them off. "Yes! My two-year anniversary present!"

A small blue stone from which three silvery trails cascaded and sparkled when touched by the light. Tokio smiled back at the lucky girl.

"Nothing like a fiancé to get you nice things," Tokio said.

"You say it like that's the only thing I want him for," Sekiji replied, fixing her hair.

"I know; they're also handy for opening marmalade pots."

Sekiji tried to look serious, but she couldn't keep a snort inside. "I can open my own pots."

"And company's cheaper than heating to keep warm in bed," Tokio continued.

"We don't even live together yet."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that." It was so nice to see her friend that happy that she didn't feel it was fair to keep harping on it. "I really hope you've truly stumbled onto the one good man on the planet."

"You will never find love if you keep thinking like that, Tokio."

"I've had enough of love finding me for a lifetime, thanks," she replied blandly.

Sekiji didn't seem convinced, and neither put off. "I don't know. I think you should give yourself a chance. It's been what, ten years?"

"Thirteen," she said. "And I don't have time to waste on that sort of thing."

"Oh, so now time is the excuse," Sekiji replied as if she had heard a ton of them already.

To be honest, she had. And it was her fault for insisting.

"No, the excuse is that I don't want to put up with another selfish asshole only to clean up after the disaster he leaves behind when he decides to jump boat."

There was a moment of silence before Sekiji said, "You're too young to be so cynical."

The doorbell rang, but there was someone else behind the bar, so Tokio didn't move.

"That's me, doing everything before it's age-appropriate!" She said with fake cheer.

"…Savage."

They didn't mind the sound of footsteps getting closer until someone spoke right behind Tokio.

"Excuse me," a sultry voice called to attention.

Tokio turned around to see something she'd rather not. Looking every bit as intimidating and indecent as she did on television, the R-rated hero Midnight was staring at her with shining eyes and a grin that tripped all her internal alarms.

"May I help you?" Tokio asked, hoping against hope that she only wanted a coffee to go. Further behind, she spied Present Mic making an order at the counter, and she realized that they had probably come together. She had nowhere to run.

"You are the espresso waitress, aren't you?" Midnight inspected Tokio from head to toe with a gaze that made her feel butt-naked, so she hugged the tray closer with both hands. "You must be. Purple hair, yellow eyes, pretty face…" she reached for Tokio's chin and lifted it with a couple of fingers, closing the space between their faces until she was only inches away and Tokio was majorly creeped out. "Ooh, I see now," Midnight continued, staring into Tokio's eyes with curiosity, "They are lines instead of round. Eraserhead said your pupils turned like clock hands when you activated your quirk."

Tokio took one, two steps back until she felt she was at a safe distance. Midnight didn't try to keep her close, but Tokio couldn't trust her. If she was an acquaintance of Aizawa and had come looking for her, there must have been a reason. Maybe she was the only one person terribly offended by what she did. Maybe she was his crazy girlfriend had had come after Tokio looking for vengeance in behalf of her lover. Tokio tried not to wonder if Kanade's former homeroom teacher was into that sort of kinky stuff, and failed. Between Sekiji watching the interaction from her table with obvious interest and Mic in the background, Tokio felt like she had an audience and no proper way to react.

She said the first inoffensive thing that crossed her mind. "It was an Americano."

Midnight rested the hand that had touched Tokio on her hip. "Hm?"

"The coffee I threw at him," she replied, immediately regretting her choices as her famous last words, "it was an Americano, not an espresso."

Sekiji muffled a snort behind a hand. Some great support she had, Tokio thought.

Midnight's grin grew bigger, and when Tokio was just mentally prepared to be murdered, the heroine's shoulders started to shake and she broke into a fit of laughter.

Mic approached them with a drink in each hand, "Heya, Nakajima. Midnight insisted she wanted to meet you. You didn't know each other yet?"

"Now I do," Tokio said, a bit too weirded out to feel one hundred per cent relieved.

"And I'm so glad!" Midnight exclaimed. "You are the heroine of Yuuei!"

"I-I don't follow…?"

"I really liked those kids," Midnight said with a pout that didn't quite hide her smile. "The entire faculty did. Expelling them _en masse_ was a dick move."

Tokio found herself instantly agreeing. "It was."

"Even for his standards," Present Mic conceded, taking a sip from his cup. "I mean, he usually spreads it throughout the year. I think the principal's still angry about it, though I can never really tell with him."

Tokio didn't think it was more acceptable to kick out twenty kids over the course of months than in one day, but kept it to herself.

Midnight stepped forward again. "Miss Nakajima," she started with a sweet tone, placing her hands on Tokio's shoulders, "you've got yourself a new customer. Thank you."

"Oh." Tokio still didn't know how to reply. "Um. Anytime. Well, not that I'd do it again, because I'm sure he'd see it coming this time, but—"

"Aren't you cute?" Midnight cut her off, and reached for the cup Present Mic was holding for her. "We need to go now, but I'll see you soon," she said at Tokio, and with a wink, she sashayed out of the café with her companion in tow.

Tokio stared at the front door for a long time after they were gone. About as long as it took Sekiji to stop shaking and swallow her laughter.

"Don't say anything," Tokio warned her.

"I wasn't going to. Promise."

"You are a bad liar, inspector," Tokio said before leaving her side to clean tables.

—

It was dark when Tokio sent the other waitresses home for the evening after cleaning. She was about to leave too; the only thing left to do was dragging the trash bags outside, to the alley the backdoor of the kitchen opened to. She lifted the dumpster's lid and chucked them inside, silently lamenting how much easier it would have been when she was still in shape.

But no time to waste! Now came one of the better parts of the day, and afterwards she had a daughter waiting for her at home, a lunchbox to make, dishes to wash, a bathroom to clean, a basketful of socks to fold…

Anyway.

She went inside to change into her street clothes, a pink dress with an off-white long cardigan, and grabbed her purse and a paper bag. She made sure that all the lights were turned off, like she did every day, exited again through the back door and locked it.

As soon as she opened the paper bag, she heard movement coming from behind the dumpster, and she smiled as she put it on the floor and ripped it open.

A pair of yellow eyes glinted in the dark and an orange tabby came into view right after.

"Hello, Mikan," Tokio said softly. "I haven't seen you in a while. Are you alone?"

Mikan meowed as if to reply and started eating from the bag.

Tokio had found out years ago that there were stray cats roaming the alleys near the café, before the dumpsters had been installed, because she and her coworkers had to deal with them ripping their trash bags in search for food, and they had been fined in a few occasions. She had come to an unspoken truce with the cats after striking a deal: she brought them the leftovers that were going to be thrown away, and they didn't make a mess of the bags in exchange.

Of course, this deal had only happened in her head because cats didn't talk, and if she thought about it, it was more like she was paying a protection racket to a furry gang of evildoers, but she didn't mind, and this way she could also make sure that they didn't resort to eating sweets from the bags.

A cream-colored cat emerged from the shadows seconds later and ran towards the food.

"Yuzu," she called.

The cat pointed his ears at her, but he didn't look up from the ham he was eating. She smiled.

There had been a time when Tokio wanted to have pets. She had imagined being thirty with a career, a nice house, a significant other, and most importantly, at least one dog and one cat.

Instead, she had an insignificant job, a tiny apartment, an ex-husband, and she had traded the animals for a kid. Her kid also wanted pets, but neither of them spent enough time at home to take care of them.

No other fluffy gangsters showed up that evening, but the two that did rubbed against her legs when they were done eating, and she spent a few minutes petting them. Yuzu looked thinner than usual, and she thought about trying to save some money to bring him to a vet. He was one of the oldest guys roaming those backstreets.

"Don't get sick while I can't care for you, you hear me?" She mumbled, scratching his head. "You have to keep me company for many more years."

It was always sad when one of the cats went away and never returned, but some hurt more than others.

Tokio began heading home when the two cats decided they were done colluding with humans for the day. It had gotten late, but she didn't have to worry about Kanade, since she usually made her own dinner.

"I'm home," she announced as she stepped inside the flat.

Kanade was, as it had become usual, sprawled on the couch with her gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling.

"What's wrong?" Tokio said. A question she'd learned to dread asking recently.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Hmpf."

"Are you sure it's nothing?"

"It's nothing."

"Uh-huh."

Tokio stared at her daughter for a beat, left her cardigan on a chair and turned towards the kitchen.

"They are so boring!" Kanade suddenly blurted out.

Tokio walked back to the chair and sat on it, resting her arms on the table. "Who?"

Kanade sat upright and looked at her mother with fire in her eyes. "My classmates!"

"Why do you say that?"

"They are… they've just given up!" She said, throwing her arms in the air, making them chime. "Everyone at Yuuei was so pumped up, and these guys are just like… like… like they'll never amount to anything!"

Tokio listened, thinking that she had never considered how children in other hero courses must have felt. Not all renowned heroes hailed from Yuuei, but it was true that many of the great had graduated from there. It must have been discouraging to look all the time at something they had been denied from the start.

But Kanade hadn't. She knew how Yuuei was, and now she knew how normal hero courses were, and she was furious.

"There are many heroes who come from other schools," Tokio said.

"I know! And I keep telling them, but they act like they've failed before they've even begun!"

Tokio had feared she wouldn't be able to adapt. There were other options, though transferring a second time would be an ordeal. "If you want to change schools again—"

"No way!" Kanade said, taking Tokio by surprise. "I like the school, and the teachers, and my classmates are okay too, but they're so low on spirits…" She sighed. "I've thought a lot this time. More than I ever have." She was frowning and looking downwards, her purple-blue hair obscuring her face, and her cheeks were dusted pink as she said, "I miss having Present Mic and all the other cool heroes as teachers, but you know what? If Yuuei doesn't want me, and didn't want you, and of all people let dad graduate, Yuuei isn't worth shit."

She said this with a fierceness that made Tokio's mouth drop, and she wondered when her little girl had become so strong and so… so… badass.

But she couldn't say that. "Kanade, language."

Kanade covered her mouth on reflex, but she took the hand back right away. "Um, sorry. But what I'm saying is true! What's so good about Yuuei anyway? Of course so many big heroes are going to come out of it if they can be as choosy as they want and have connections with the famous agencies. But it doesn't mean there aren't good heroes elsewhere! So, I've decided!" She clutched her fists. "Who needs Yuuei?! I'm gonna to make them see that! We can—no, we'll be better, and when we become top-rated heroes, I'm going to walk up to Mr. Aizawa and throw it in his face and stick it to all those elitist jerks!"

Kanade looked at her mother expectantly, and Tokio, who suddenly felt like a small rodent had took residence in her throat, got up from her chair to catch Kanade in a bear hug.

"M-mom!"

The embarrassed cries of her daughter didn't deter Tokio, and after putting up enough resistance to salvage her adolescent pride, Kanade hugged back, and Tokio did what she could to hold back the tears by saying that Present Mic had dropped by the café that day, which changed Kanade's mood right away and gave her an excuse to tease her daughter with her not-so secret crush.

The next day's lunch box was made to Kanade's pleas of listening to his radio show on Friday, Tokio saying nope, no way, you can stream it the next day, and her daughter complaining that it wasn't fair because she got to hear him while he was on air.

Being an adult couldn't be all disadvantages.


	3. Blue Mountain

Hi everyone! Thanks for your lovely comments, the faves and the follows! I didn't expect this story to get so many right of the bat. I'm sorry that it's taking me so long to update, but as I said, I'm working on other stuff I need to prioritize. I haven't replied to most comments because I put it off for too long, but know that I appreciate each and everyone of them! Thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

 **Blue Mountain**

A persistent drizzle was falling on the city when Tokio headed to the café for her afternoon shift.

Tokio said hi to the guards stationed at the door of the police station as she passed them, and she was stopped by someone coming from inside.

"Hold up!" Sekiji exited the building in a hurry and took refuge under Tokio's umbrella. "I left mine home and I'll die if I don't get my coffee break now."

"You better not die on the last day before your vacation."

"It would suck," Sekiji said happily, her mood contrasting with her words. "Tomorrow at this hour I'll be arriving to my parents'. Haven't even started to pack up my things…"

"You've been pretty busy lately. Is this the last courtesy visit before getting hitched?" Tokio asked as they reached the café. She folded her umbrella and shook off the excess water as Sekiji went ahead and held the door open for her.

"That's exactly what it is." Sekiji stared at the pastries under the counter for a bit. "The more the date closes in, the more anxious I get."

"Anxious as in, 'I want to run for the hills' or as in 'I want to get it over with and settle down?'

Sekiji looked slightly scared when she said, "I honestly don't know."

Tokio gave Sekiji a light pat on the shoulder. "All's fine, then."

"Did it happen to you too?"

"I don't think you want to draw comparisons between us. Seriously."

"…Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Hey," Sekiji stopped Tokio just as she started to walk to the backroom, "what would it take for you to remarry?"

"Sizeable tax deductions," Tokio replied immediately.

"I'm serious!"

"Why do you think I'm not?"

Sekiji turned her mouth. "You don't have to give up only because things went wrong once."

"We have this conversation once a week. I'm fine as I am."

Sekji crossed her arms and stared at Tokio like a concerned parent. "I'm worried about you."

Tokio didn't know how to react to that statement, so she replied with an intelligent, "Eh?"

"All you do all day is work here, work at home and take care of your kid. When do you pay attention to yourself? Do you even have friends outside of work, Tokio?"

Tokio tried to save herself and failed. "But you and I aren't cowork—"

"Oh, shut it," Sekiji interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "Kanade's all grown up now. Don't you think it's time you thought about what _you_ want?"

It was true that Sekiji sometimes nagged Tokio about her personal life, but she usually let it slide after Tokio tried one or two excuses. She didn't really want to think about the direction her life had taken right before her shift. "I don't want anything."

"Liar."

Tokio didn't think she had lied until Sekiji called her out, and she fell in thought. Faced with silence, Sekiji sighed, and she looked like she was going to give up when Tokio spoke softly.

"What would it take…?" She mumbled, looking away. "Someone who doesn't think I'm stupid because I don't have a high school diploma, who takes care of Kanade and who won't leave the moment things seem like they may go south. Someone I don't have to clean up after."

"That isn't as impossible as you make it seem."

"It shouldn't be, should it?" Tokio agreed. She had tried meeting people after she divorced, but the moment Kanade entered the picture, potential candidates fled. She didn't think it was worth the effort anymore. "It's just, there comes a point in your life when your priorities shift, and you'd rather find a man who folds his own socks than having a passionate romance. Why would I want that? I need help at home, not distractions."

"…I hate folding socks," Sekiji conceded.

"See?" Tokio said in a teasing tone. "Does Yuuma fold his own socks?"

Sekiji thought a second about it. "I think he does."

"Then don't worry about that wedding. You're doing great," Tokio said with a reassuring smile that Sekiji mirrored, and she headed to the backroom to change into her blue uniform and white apron.

As luck would have it, the new waitress was walking by the door with a full tray when she opened it to leave the room.

Tokio let out a small cry of surprise at the same time as her coworker and activated her quirk out of reflex. Three dirty cups and a pair of dishes became suspended in the air as they fell very, very slowly.

"Sorry! Are you okay, Kitano?" She asked, careful not to take her eyes from the tableware and helping to retrieve it before it touched the floor.

"Ah! Yes! I'm so sorry!" When she got over the surprise, she placed everything back on the tray and hurried to the kitchen before Tokio could tell her not to worry.

She closed the door, hoping that she could meet the genius that decided to install it to open outwards, and then heard a whistle from a nearby table.

Present Mic had come into the shop while she changed. "Sweet reflexes!"

She smiled at him. "Practice makes perfect. It happens more often than you'd think."

"Is she new? I don't think I've seen her before."

"Yup, she started a week ago." Tokio noticed he had nothing on his table. "Did anyone take your order yet? Can I get you something?"

"Yeah—well, later—actually, I was hoping to talk to you. Do you have a sec?"

While it was true that Mic tended to chat a bit with whoever was working on a given day, it was the first time he had specifically wanted to speak to her. Tokio had a feeling that she knew what it was about, and she wasn't eager to have that conversation, but she didn't want to be rude either, and it wasn't like she could dodge him indefinitely.

"If it doesn't take too long…" She said, dreading what was to come.

"No prob, we'll be done in a moment! Come sit here!" He made gestures at the chair in front of him.

Tokio wasn't so sure that it was going to be short if he wanted her to take a seat, but swallowed her suspicions and did it anyway. "So? What brings you here?" She said in the cheeriest tone she could.

"It's about the other day. You know—"

"I know," she cut him.

"Yeah," he said, and for the first time since she knew him, he sounded a tad uncomfortable. Then he put his hands together in an apologetic gesture and said loud enough to make everybody stare. "I'm sorry! I had no idea!"

Tokio looked at the other customers and waiters with panicked embarrassment, and whispered. "Why? Why would you be? You didn't do anything."

"I dragged him here." He scratched the back of his hair. "I mean, I'd heard the rumor that someone's kid had been kicked out, but I didn't think it was yours. Are you her tutor, or…?"

"Oh, no, she's definitely my kid."

"Really? As in…" Tokio nodded at the unspoken question and he seemed to understand. "I thought you were about my age."

"I am," Tokio said with a practiced smile. This conversation never got any less awkward, so she had learned how to go through the motions to get it over with.

Mic frowned at that, and Tokio wondered if he was the judgmental type. She was relieved when what she got was sympathy instead. "Must've been rough."

Tokio shrugged, smiling wistfully. "Well. Life takes you to places."

"You can say. Er, if you don't mind me asking… How did the dad take the expulsion?"

Tokio expression changed immediately and she snorted humorlessly. "He doesn't know. I haven't seen him in years and I hope the next news I get of him is that he's dead and leaving his inheritance to Kanade."

There was a beat of silence, after which Present Mic said, "Looks like today's the day I put my foot in my mouth long enough for the rest of the year."

Tokio's mouth curled up in amusement. "Nah, don't worry. I'm not upset."

"I should'va noticed sooner. There was a Nakajima in Eraserhead's class." He crossed his arms, thinking back on something. "I remember her. Spunky kid, sounded like Santa Claus was coming to town whenever she walked around."

Tokio's shoulders shook with contained laughter. "I've been making that comparison since her quirk manifested. Every time she does this," Tokio lifted an arm in front of her and shook it, "the bells—oh, speak of the devil!"

The front door of the café opened with double chiming, some coming from the bell and some from Kanade, who was listening to music with her earbuds.

Tokio smiled and waved her at her to come closer, and Kanade was halfway to the table when she stopped, realizing that Mic was also looking at her, and her mouth dropped.

"Yo, Nakajima Jr.! It's been a while!"

Caught off guard and aware that she was becoming so red she'd put a traffic light to shame, Kanade said very quickly, "I-I-I-I'll be back!" and made a beeline for the backroom.

Mic's smile froze. "Did I say something wrong?"

Tokio covered her mouth to hide a grin. "Don't mind her. I think she's star-struck."

"Oooh! Yeah, happens to me everywhere I go. Though there's usually less running and more autograph asking."

"Well, you _were_ her teacher and she got kicked out. I think she's embarrassed."

"Nonsense! Who cares about that?"

"You can tell her if she ever comes out," Tokio said, turning around to look at the still-closed door. Her eyes narrowed. "And she better do it soon, 'cause she isn't supposed to be there."

"Will do! So, how is she doing at her new school? She had a pretty nifty quirk, if I remember well."

"She's absolutely determined to be the best pro hero she can be out of spite and is waiting for the day she can show Eraserhead up and tell him to screw himself."

"I think I know where she gets that character."

"Heck, no. Kanade can turn her salt into something productive. Apparently I throw coffees at people."

Mic's grin became smaller, but the smile was still there. "You know, Eraser's not such a bad guy."

Tokio side eyed Mic. "Why? Because he's a pro hero, so he must be a decent person?"

"I get why you are angry and I think he messed up too, but—"

Tokio put her hands up to stop him. "Hey, it isn't like I'm going to see him again, so it doesn't matter. I got it out of my system back then. Kanade loved me a little for it. She's getting her studies back on track. I'd rather forget this sorry episode of our lives ever happened."

"That's good to hear. I thought you'd be much angrier."

"I still think he's a dick."

"Aaaand that's completely fair!"

Tokio smiled at Mic, and got up from her chair. "Well, sorry to leave you, but I've got work to do. Do you want the usual?"

"Yeah, and I'll have it here. I'll stay around and see if I can talk to your kid."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate it. Thanks."

"Don't mention it!"

Tokio spent the next fifteen minutes of her afternoon throwing sideway glances in the backroom's direction, which opened slightly every now and then and promptly got shut, and after she was tired of it, she took matters and daughter into her own hands and pulled Kanade outside while scolding her.

The following ten passed while she snuck glances from behind the cash register at Kanade and Mic. The latter was doing his best being his charming self, and the former was stumbling over her own words and jingling loudly every time she moved her arms.

After a while, Present Mic excused himself, but not before extending a first towards Kanade and saying, "Sound quirks unite!"

So shaky that Tokio was wondering if she'd miss the mark, Kanade made an effort to return the brofist, and Present Mic left on his merry way while Tokio used every ounce of willpower she had to hold in a bout of laughter. _So cute_.

Kanade approached her mother seconds later, and Tokio handed her a paper bag with two chocolate doughnuts. She didn't mention what had just happened because Kanade looked like she was wishing for the floor tiles to crack would open and swallow her into the depths of the planet. "Are you going to Rina's house to study today?"

"Yeah," Kanade said. She was notably relieved that she had avoided being poked fun at.

"Don't get home too late, and remember locking the door."

"Okay."

"Don't forget your umbrella."

"It's right here."

"And don't wait for me for dinner."

"I know," she said, annoyed.

"Tell Rina she can come over anytime, all—"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna be late, mom. Bye!"

"Bye," Tokio said without any enthusiasm.

The hours passed like they did every day. Greet customers, make drinks, clean tables, rinse and repeat until closing hour.

It wasn't raining by the time everybody else was gone, so Tokio took some leftovers out for the cats and watched them eat in silence, crouched next to them.

She thought of the conversation with Sekiji, of Kanade being sick of her nagging, of Mic trying to cheer them up, of the load of unfolded socks waiting for her hanging from the clothesline.

It was so easy to talk about wants and needs when your only responsibility was yourself. It was amazing how such a well-meaning conversation had made her feel so shitty.

"What's the point?" She mumbled at Yuzu, who was busy polishing off what a tortoiseshell, Azuki, hadn't eaten already. "I have enough headaches as is. You should've seen the electricity bill this month. How am I supposed to pay that? I need to ask for more overtime…" She paused. "See, I can tell you my worries because you don't give a hoot about them."

As if on cue, Yuzu lifted his head, turned around, and disappeared into another alley.

Sighing tiredly, Tokio tossed the dirty paper into the dumpster and took off.

She was barely two blocks away from the café when it started to rain heavily, and she realized she had left her umbrella in the backroom. Shops were closed and she still had a ways to go until she got home, so she raced back to the café and fumbled with the lock of the backdoor for a few seconds because she couldn't see anything in the alley.

It only took her a moment to get her umbrella, but she had to waste some time to mop up the tracks she had left on the clean floor. At last, she managed to leave the shop, exhausted and already daydreaming about changing into pajamas.

She wasn't out of the back alley yet when she heard a deafening metallic sound that scared the lights out of her. She took out her phone and faced the flashlight towards the sound at the same time Yuzu ran out of a nearby alley, past her and onto the main street like fluffy lightning. Tokio went in the opposite direction and checked behind the dumpsters to see a lid vibrating on the pavement.

Dang cats toppling over trashcans, she thought, exhaling with relief. She sent a cursory glance towards the alley that lid and cat had come from, but she couldn't hear or see anything else, so she shoved her phone inside her bag, and followed Yuzu's example to go onto the main street.

Her living room's lights were turned on and Kanade had already gone to sleep when Tokio got home. She kicked her flats off her achy feet, went to the kitchen, looked at the dishes in the sink and at the instant ramen in the cupboard and debated if dinner was worth the effort of reaching up, boiling water and moving her arm to use the chopsticks. She settled on washing the dishes, showering, and going to sleep. It also meant that the instant ramen would last one more day, which was always something positive, and then she could have her morning tea at work before her shift started, and that should be good enough to get her going until lunch.

Before getting in bed, she checked the clothesline to find the clean socks soaking wet.

—

In the weeks that followed, Kanade seemed to be adjusting at school, or rather, adjusting the school to her, Kitano completed her training at the shop, and Midnight made good on her promise and dropped by every now and then.

She liked the masala chai with lots of ginger that Tokio had tried when it had been first added to the menu because it smelled like cinnamon and had actually set her mouth on fire and given her a stomachache for a week.

Present Mic also kept up his regular appearances, and Tokio noticed that, one of the days he was getting an order to go, Aizawa was waiting outside for him.

Their eyes met for a nanosecond through the window's glass, and either they looked away so fast that either Mic didn't notice, or he was gracious enough not to comment on it.

In a despicable moment of weakness as she saw them go, she wondered if she should apologize, but as soon as this notion made its presence known, she killed it in cold blood and buried it in quicklime.

Sekiji's vacation was taking longer than expected, though, and she hadn't seen her since the day before her trip. Tokio sincerely hoped she was having all the fun she was missing, because she was feeling kind of lonely.

And then, one day, a man she had only seen coming and going from the police station but Tokio had never met went into the café, bypassing the waitress at the register and going straight to her.

"Are you Tokio Nakajima?"

Not even a single pleasantry. The man's face was stern, and Tokio felt automatically guilty, even if she had no idea what could warrant a police officer to come looking for her. Unless something had happened to Kanade— _please, please let it not be that_ —

"Yes, I am," she said, trying not to sound anxious. "How can I help you?"

"I am inspector Kawamura," he said, and Tokio remembered Sekiji talking about him. He was one of her senior officers. "Do you have a moment? There are some things I need to ask you."

Considering she had been in the middle of adding steamed milk to three cappuccinos, no, she didn't, but it didn't strike her as very wise to tell him so. Tokio looked at her companion at the register, and she gestured at her to go. Kitano, who was serving tables, offered to take over.

"Follow me," Kawamura said to Tokio. "We should speak somewhere more private."

"May I ask what this is about?" Tokio asked, unable to hold back any longer.

"We'll talk at the station."

Tokio's anxiety got mixed with a surge of irritation at the man. She fell into a quick pace behind him, and the two walked through a few hallways in the police station until they reached a mostly empty room.

Its contents were a table, several chairs and one Eraserhead.

Tokio stopped under at the threshold. She couldn't help wondering if this had anything to do with the flying Americano, but she discarded the idea as fast as it occurred to her, because by all means the time for retribution should have been over by then, and this looked too serious to be about something so silly.

Then again, better about the Americano than Kanade. Please let it not be about her.

"What's this about?" She asked again, less politely this time around, tempted to pull out her phone to ask her daughter directly.

Aizawa gave the inspector a slightly confused glance. "You haven't told her?"

"Not yet," he replied, and, looking at Tokio, motioned towards a chair. "Please, take a seat. We need to ask you a few questions about inspector Suzume Sekiji."

Some of her pent up tension left her upon hearing this wasn't related to Kanade, but another kind of worry took its place. She had been wondering about Sekiji after weeks without news.

Kawamura closed the door as she sat down.

"Why? Did something happen to her?" Tokio asked.

There was a foreboding silence. The men's grim faces made her fear the worst.

"She's missing," Aizawa said, leaving the rest of the explaining to the inspector.

Tokio thought it was no wonder he didn't feel like talking to her. She didn't feel like being stuck in the same room as him, either, but her discomfort didn't matter in the light of these news.

"Four weeks ago, she took some time off to visit her parents and take care of personal matters." Kawamura said. "Her parents reported after a day that she hadn't shown up and couldn't contact her, but we didn't receive notice of it until much later, since another precinct was in charge of the investigation. We are operating under the assumption that she disappeared of her own free will."

Tokio frowned in confusion. "Why? There's no reason she would…"

"That's what we need to ask you," Kawamura replied. "You were the last person aside from coworkers seen talking to her. I hear you have been acquainted for a long time. Did she mention anything strange?"

Tokio remembered their last conversation well, if nothing else because it had left her with a bad aftertaste for the remainder of the day, but that had been all on her. Sekiji had been her energetic self, like always.

"No…" She began, recalling their chat. "She talked about the trip, and she seemed worried about the wedding—"

That caught Kawamura's attention. "What do you mean by worried?"

"Pre-wedding jitters? It didn't seem important."

Kawamura didn't look satisfied at all with her reply, so Tokio scrambled to remember something else.

"Really, we didn't talk about anything important," she said. She wished she could be more useful, and didn't need to be glared at by a strange man. "She only commented that she was getting anxious and she still had to pack her suitcase."

The two men shared a quick look.

"Some essentials were missing from her home, so she must have taken her things before leaving."

"So… what then? Do you think she ran away because she was having second thoughts about marrying?" Tokio asked, incredulous. Did this person know her at all?

"It's a possibility," Kawamura admitted, "but regardless of her motive, we have reasons to believe she disappeared voluntarily."

"That can't be," Tokio shook her head. "She wouldn't up and vanish like that. She would've told someone."

Tokio noticed Aizawa looking down at the table, deep in thought. It didn't seem like he was paying any attention to her objections, but he wasn't coming up with any rebuttals, either. Given the circumstances, she had expected more aggressiveness.

Probably thinking that he wouldn't be getting anything new out of her, Kawamura nodded and said, "Thank you for your cooperation. We may need to question you at another time, but you may go now."

This had been a total waste of time for everyone involved.

"All right," Tokio replied, feeling worse by the moment. It wasn't like she was that close with Sekiji, and she was aware that she didn't have any proof that she hadn't gone missing willingly, but her gut feeling told her something was very wrong here.

"I'll escort her out," Aizawa said all of a sudden.

That was the last thing Tokio wanted. "That's not necessary, I know how to—"

"Come with me."

And now she didn't have any say in it. Fantastic.

The seconds that transpired since they left the room until they were left alone in an empty hallway and he spoke again felt like an eternity.

"If you remember anything else or get any news from her, talk directly to inspector Kawamura." He drawled. Tokio thought he looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and she felt a tiny pang of sympathy. Then again, she wouldn't be able to sleep at night if she knew she had crushed the dreams of twenty kids in one fell swoop. "If you can't get a hold of him, Present Mic or Midnight will do. Don't speak to anybody else at the station."

So they wanted to keep the issue under wraps. Understandable, since it involved a fellow officer.

"Okay," Tokio said. It didn't seem like he was interested in bringing up the incident, and she was more than happy to act as if it hadn't happened by filling the awkward silence with the questions she had. "What about you?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "What about?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Would you?"

Tokio looked away, at the wall, and released a sigh.

"Thought so."

She sidestepped the subject again. "Are you investigating her disappearance? It isn't the kind of job pro heroes do."

"We were working together on a case," Aizawa said. "Usually, I would leave the investigation to the police, but these aren't normal circumstances."

That meant he knew her. He had to know their hypothesis wasn't solid. "Do you really think she left without notice?"

He took his sweet time to reply, but the inflection of his voice was still quiet. Neutral. Tokio couldn't get anything from it. "Given the circumstantial evidence, it's the most logical assumption."

"I don't see how," Tokio replied bitterly when he didn't agree.

"You don't need to. In fact, the less you know, the better," he sentenced.

Tokio sighed again. It was useless to insist. She didn't have any proof that she was right. It was just a feeling, and had she been in the investigation, she probably wouldn't have given any credit to it, either. Moreso if, like Aizawa had suggested, there was proof pointing in the opposite direction. She was just a waitress who happened to know what kind of coffee Sekiji liked most.

Blue Mountain beans, no sugar and just a drop of milk. It wasn't the kind of drink one would have expected from her.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, but Aizawa spoke up again when they reached the lobby. "How is your daughter doing?"

It was the last question she had expected to hear from him, so much that it took her some time to react. She also surprised herself when she didn't feel like replying with a _why do you care,_ but she attributed that to having just received bad news. "Well, I think," she said, and she thought she sounded civil. "She's very fired up about proving that she can be a good hero with or without Yuuei."

"Midnight told me something along those lines. That's good."

So either Midnight was talking about Kanade to her coworkers because, or Aizawa had asked about her. Neither option sounded likely. Tokio looked at the man beside her skeptically, but kept her comments to herself. Aizawa replied even without them.

"Believe it or not, I didn't expel those kids out of malice."

"What a consolation," she said with heavy sarcasm. "Was there really no one up to Yuuei's standards in there? Don't you think you went a tiny bit overboard kicking out a whole class?"

"I might," he admitted, which made Tokio feel even more indignant, "but I wouldn't take it back. I had my reasons."

"Of course."

They stopped a few steps away from the door.

"Have a nice day," Aizawa said tersely.

He was irritated, and it bothered Tokio, because by all means she should have been the one getting angry. "Same." She was curt, and she didn't care.

Back at the café, Tokio only told her coworkers that a regular had gone missing and the police were looking into it.

When she got home that day, she thought about telling Kanade that she had seen Aizawa, but she didn't think there was any need to bring up unpleasant memories now that she was giving her all in her studies, so she kept it to herself, along with her thoughts of Sekiji, replaying their last conversation in her head in hopes of finding something that could shed light into the investigation.


	4. Sencha

You guys are awesome. Thanks so much for reading and commenting, I didn't think this would attract so much attention. I was so surprised when some of you started to think of theories about the disappearance, and I hope I can meet your expectations!

Plot is kicking in for real this time.

* * *

 **Sencha**

As expected, Sekiji never contacted Tokio. And how could she? In all the years they'd known each other, they had never exchanged phone numbers.

It was strange, looking at the table where she usually sat and finding it empty, or worse, seeing someone else. Like she was replaceable. A reminder that the world kept going regardless of the actual people that lived in it. It was cruel.

Tokio hadn't realized how much those tiny moments they shared had meant to her until she was gone, and she recalled one of Sekiji's last questions.

 _Do you even have friends outside of work?_

She had the patrons. Her coworkers. A kid. The stray cats in the alley. Overtime to work and a home to keep tidy. She was fine like that. Or so she had thought, until that tenuous balance had vanished with someone who had taken a piece of her world with her, and what seemed so insignificant turned out to be a significant factor in it, considering the size of her world was so reduced.

She wasn't given any updates on the situation, either, because why should they? Sekiji and Tokio weren't that close. She had no right to access that information. Tokio kept thinking of Aizawa saying that she was better off not knowing, and while she logically knew it had to be for the best, she couldn't help but resent it. The fact that it had been _him_ to tell her probably hadn't helped.

To say that her mood had soured since Kawamura had made an appearance at the café was an understatement. Kanade asked her one day if anything was wrong, and she said she was tired from work, which wasn't a lie completely.

Then again, unbeknownst to Tokio, she was about to take an unwanted vacation.

One morning, she was behind the counter, as always, alone. There were only a couple of occupied tables, and her coworkers were busy in the kitchen. Business was slow after breakfast hours, and she was usually left to front the shop on her own while the others prepared the food for lunch.

The sudden screams outside that pierced the quiet atmosphere of the coffee shop were the only reason that she was able to react in time.

At the same time Tokio turned towards the glass to see what was happening on the street, a car drove into the café at high speed, raining shards into the shop, and as it crashed against the counter and began to tumble towards her, she slowed it to a halt in the air, allowing her to dodge out of the way.

She wanted to check if anybody had been hit, but she couldn't let the car leave her line of sight, and she couldn't leave the counter without looking away. Kitano called her name from somewhere behind the car.

"Get out!" Tokio yelled. "I can hold it off!"

She heard the scrambling of her coworkers and the few patrons that had been inside the café, and slowly, trying to keep as much distance from the car without looking elsewhere, she was about to duck past the kitchen door when she paid attention to the man on the driver's seat. He seemed to be unconscious, and the moment she looked anywhere but the car, he'd crash against the wall at the back of the room.

Tokio's eyes were starting to water when she made a split-second decision.

Not at all confident that she'd be able to pull it off, but unable to just leave him to his fate, she climbed on the counter, getting cut with some shards, reached for the door's handle and found it locked. Tokio felt around her for a piece of a broken mug, stepped back and threw it as hard as she could against the car's side window, but it ricocheted without nicking the glass.

If only she had something hard and sharp nearby, like one of the ceramic knives in the kitchen—

But it was useless to think about it. She was about to blink, and she had tried all she could in the little time she had.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly moved under the part of the counter the car had already passed, covered her head, and the next thing she heard was the sound of the vehicle colliding against the wall. The air filled with a strong sweet odor mixed with oil and gasoline.

When she looked over the counter, she saw the car hadn't flipped over in the end, but the front was smashed in, and, even if she wanted to, there was no way for Tokio now to pry the door open and free the man. The smoke coming from the car was white and smelled sickly sweet. She leapt over the counter and approached him to check, at least, if he was still breathing.

Something sank in the pit of her stomach. She could barely make out his form among the remains of the car. Freeing him was out of the question, and she immediately started to run towards the exit of the café.

The perk of being next to a police station was that several agents arrived immediately. She was urged to get away from the shop and scolded by an officer all the way to a nearby bench for not evacuating before.

It wasn't until she was standing under the sunlight outside, watching the policemen work, that the realization of what had just happened began to set in.

A second later and she would have been dead. Her mind went blank as the meaning of that statement sank in.

A crowd had gathered outside, and Mika, the woman who had been working the kitchen for five years by then, came running to hug Tokio as soon as she saw her.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" She said in a panic. "Why didn't you come out sooner?"

She didn't reply because her brain had decided to disconnect her from reality. Shock, she vaguely recognized. Mika was telling her something, but she wasn't really listening. She had a case of tunnel vision and couldn't make out what she was being told, but she was all too aware of the spectators.

Mika pulled her aside as Kitano also followed, and they sat her on a nearby bench. Kitano fanned air at her with her apron until she came back to her senses, more or less. The world around Tokio didn't seem quite real.

She remembered she hadn't eaten anything since the night before, so that probably wasn't doing her any favors.

"Are you okay?" Mika asked. "The ambulance'll be here in a minute, don't worry—"

"I'm fine," she said with a strangled voice, and lifted a hand to touch her forehead only to see it bloodied. A few glass shards were stuck in her palm, and she plucked out the biggest ones. When she lowered her eyes, she saw her legs weren't in a much better state.

"Oh, no, you're going to the hospital to get checked. Did you get hit? Did you fall?"

Tokio shook her head. "I climbed on the counter to try to get the driver out. I think he was unconscious."

"You should've come out right away! That was police or pro hero work."

"I didn't see any around," Tokio snapped, and regretted it instantly. "Sorry. I didn't think, I—"

"It's okay, don't worry," Mika said with a reassuring smile. "Does it hurt a lot? Should you be taking it out…?"

Tokio glanced at her hand. Mika had a point. She could forget about the glass as long as she wasn't moving it. "You're right. It's best to wait. It's not that bad."

Mika looked at her with incredulity. "If you say so…"

The sirens of the two ambulances deployed announced their arrival soon, and before Tokio knew it, she was getting herded into one despite her reassurances that she didn't feel so bad.

They made her lie down the whole way, in case she got dizzy. Meanwhile, all she could think about was of the overtime she wouldn't be able to put in while the shop was being fixed. Worse, what if the owner didn't think the repairs where worth it? What was she supposed to do without a job? Kanade had enrolled at a private school after getting expelled, and she couldn't pull her out now. They needed the money.

It hit her then that she had left her purse and her phone in the backroom, and she had no means to tell Kanade what had happened. She hoped the news didn't get to her before they could talk.

After a few too many stitches, copious amounts of bandages around her hand and legs, and a warning not to use her right hand to avoid reopening the wound – Tokio was pretty sure at this point that this doctor had someone else do his housework – she was left alone with two policemen who took her statement and afterwards said they'd accompany her home. She told them she still needed to pick up her things from the shop, and though it took some insisting, they relented and escorted her there. She also asked about the driver, but they couldn't tell her anything. Big surprise.

The onlookers were gone, a cordon and investigators taking their place. The sight of the shattered glass, the broken chairs and the smell of the car crash made her stomach churn. The agents had been right. She needed to get home. Maybe eat a proper meal for once, if she could keep it down.

She took her purse, stuffed her regular clothes in a plastic bag and hurried out, doing her best to ignore the remains of the accident. From outside the cordon, she texted Kanade.

' _Don't know if you've heard the news but I'm ok. I'll be home soon.'_

The reply came immediately.

' _what happened?'_

' _Car crashed into the shop. No one was hurt.'_ Save for the driver, but that felt unnecessary and still made her uneasy. _'Later.'_

"What are you doing here?"

Tokio lifted her eyes to be met with Aizawa's face. Behind him was inspector Kawamura, staring at the wreck. What were _they_ doing there? Didn't they have more pressing business, like finding a missing coworker?

"I came back for my things," Tokio said, lifting the bag with her right hand and wincing as soon as she did. She'd had to watch out for those gestures.

Aizawa seemed to accept that answer, but he kept looking at her, and it felt rude to sidestep him and go on her way. Not that it would top the flying Americano. She was about to ask him if he needed anything else when he spoke again.

"I heard someone stopped the car before it crashed. Was that you?"

She nodded warily. "I saw the car coming towards me and I activated my quirk on reflex."

"Towards you?" He repeated.

She didn't think she had said anything noteworthy. "When it swerved into the shop it hit the counter," she said, pointing towards the café and drawing the trajectory in the air. "Good thing too, because I was the only one behind it. If it had gone in the opposite direction, it would have run over the customers."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "One of your coworkers stated that you tried to get the driver out of the car."

So he had been around long enough to get an update of the statements at the crime scene. It didn't seem like he was just passing by.

"I couldn't open the door, though, so it was all for nothing. Everybody's been telling me it was stupid to try," she said preemptively.

"It was. Don't rush mindlessly into danger or you'll only add more work to the emergency services."

The overall contents of the warning didn't bother her. It was the implication that she hadn't thought that put her in a decidedly bad mood. Who was he to judge if she had thought before acting? Her first reaction had been to run away, like everybody else. It had taken a conscious effort to stay put and try to save that man.

The fastest way to getting on Tokio's bad side was either hurting Kanade or implying that she was dumb, and this guy was doing magnificently on all fronts.

Feeling like she'd had enough of that man for the rest of the year, she began to walk away with a mechanical 'excuse me'. Aizawa didn't try to stop her or attempt to continue the conversation, so she left without looking back and still feeling like she was walking on air.

Which was probably the reason she felt like she was being watched all the way, or so she told herself. She threw glances over her shoulder every now and then, but she didn't see anybody suspicious. Still, she felt wary about going straight home and giving her address to a potential stalker, so she checked the hour on her phone and decided to buy some groceries, hoping to get rid of that annoying sensation.

She ended up buying less than she wanted, but she had a useless hand and was carrying a bag already. And while she felt at ease inside the supermarket, the moment she got out and resumed her walk home, the feeling of being watched came back.

The sun hadn't set yet, but there weren't many people on the street in her area. It wasn't the safest neighborhood to go on a stroll, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and Tokio was happy to have a decent home. And just when she was about to reach her apartment building, she sensed movement behind her.

"Don't move!" A man's voice said at the same time she turned around.

He was pointing at her with a pocket knife, and he lunged forward when Tokio saw her face.

Something else moved at the edge of her field of vision, but before she could pay any attention to what it was, she pushed aside the arm of the attacker with her forearm, grabbed him by the collar (it _hurt_ ), and swiftly keened him under the ribs with as much force as she could muster. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, and she kicked the knife away and took a quick look at the other source of movement while her heartbeat pounded in her ears. It was great that the self-defense lessons of her youth were still paying off, but she'd had enough action that day.

Her legs and hand were screaming bloody murder, but she ignored them in favor of looking at the other man who had been about to enter the scene. "…The hell are you here?"

Shouta Aizawa looked a bit out of place as she glared at him, but he recovered quickly, pulling off his scarf to bind the criminal. "I was following you because I suspected someone else was."

Tokio frowned. How he had reached that conclusion, she had no clue. "And you couldn't come out and tell me?"

"Then _he_ wouldn't have come out." He nudged towards the attacker. "It doesn't look like you needed the warning, at any rate."

"And why did you need him to come out?" She watched him pull out a cellphone and call the police.

He replied after he was done, but he avoided the question. "Are you heading straight home now?"

"I was," she said, tired. "I suppose I need to give a statement now, don't I…?"

He looked at her, at last. "I'll do it. You should get home. Lock the door, the windows, and don't go out until someone comes pick you up. Have your phone charged and within reach."

"…Excuse me?"

"We have reasons to think you are being targeted," Aizawa explained.

"Why?" She could only think of her friend's disappearance, but she didn't know what it had to do with her. "Does this have anything to do with Sekiji?"

"I assume so. Do you live nearby?"

Tokio nodded.

"Then go. Unless you want the full explanation right now, but I think you've had a long day, and the police still need to sort out things."

Tokio's mouth dropped in surprise at his consideration. For a moment, she debated if it was worth waiting until the next day for the full story or if she'd rather stay, but she remembered she had told Kanade she'd be home soon, and she didn't want to worry her more than necessary. If she hurried, she still could hide the bandages on her legs before Kanade got home.

"I'll go home. Thank you," she said, bowing. "See you soon, I suppose."

"Yeah." He simply said, and while he didn't sound too enthused, she didn't notice any animosity in his tone.

After that Tokio jogged to her flat, trying not to pay attention at her injured limbs, and fortified herself inside, unsure what for.

—

She wore mom jeans the next day, because she was a mom and they were a good way to inconspicuously hide the bandages on her legs. So far, she had avoided Kanade noticing them, hand injury being more flashy and all, and the less weak she looked if it was true someone was after her, the better.

It had only been a few minutes since Kanade left for school when her doorbell rang. Tokio dropped back on the basket the pair of socks she was about to fold and opened the door.

It was Aizawa, and he looked sour.

She didn't expect him to be happy to see her, but he seemed to be less thrilled about it than usual.

And she hadn't expected him to be the one to pick her up, so her first reaction was an eyebrow raise that was answered by him mirroring her expression.

"Police station, right?" She asked.

"Right."

The first minutes of the walk passed in an uncompanionable silence.

"How come they sent you to pick me up?"

"Police are busy." He said. Half of his face was hidden under his scarf, and the visible half spelled that he'd rather be elsewhere.

Tokio thought that sounded like a lie. Surely they had an agent to spare. "But it's a school day. Shouldn't you be at Yuuei?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes."

"And these aren't normal."

"Precisely."

Tokio would have rather walked alone to the station. She didn't think anyone would attack her in broad daylight, but then again, she was reticent to believe someone was after her. It wasn't unheard of for a housewife to be mugged in her neighborhood, either.

Tokio eyed her surroundings. The street looked normal. Just people going about their lives, no one shifty in sight. In fact, the most suspicious-looking guy around was the one accompanying her.

Yesterday had been an unlucky day, that was all. It happened sometimes.

"I guess you can't tell me what's going on until we are at the station?"

"Correct."

She took a deep breath. _Patience, Tokio, patience_.

She tried to change the subject in hopes to get a conversation rolling. "Is another hero covering for you at school?"

"No."

She waited for an elaboration that didn't come. "So what are the kids doing?"

He let out a short, annoyed sigh. "As I'm sure you are aware of, I expelled my class at the beginning of the term. I have more free hours than I usually would."

Tokio didn't like his tone and replied in kind. "Oh, I see. That's why they're using you as an errand boy?"

Aizawa shot her a glare that may have cowed her if she hadn't been on the receiving end of her parents' when she got divorced. Perspective made everything better.

The hallways of the police station were as unwelcoming as ever, and Tokio wondered how Sekiji could stand working there for so long. Aizawa led her to an office in the fourth floor, Kawamura's, according to the plaque. He rapped on the door, and inside was not only the inspector, but also a visitor she couldn't have guessed.

He was like a cross between mouse and a pup, sipping at ease from a teacup she couldn't fathom how he was holding. It wasn't the first time she had marveled at his dexterity, but she had never had the chance of checking up close to see if he had opposable thumbs.

Kawamura's face was as unfriendly as the last time they had spoken, but principal Nedzu smiled pleasantly at Tokio and Aizawa.

"Thank you, Aizawa," he said. "Pleased to see you again, Miss Nakajima."

Tokio couldn't say the same, as the last time they had met the circumstances hadn't been the best: twenty sets of parents sitting in Yuuei's auditorium demanding responsibilities and that their kids' (former) homeroom teacher be fired.

Even Tokio had felt some second-hand embarrassment caught in between all the yelling that ensued in the meeting, though she guessed she had lost any rights to that the moment she had dumped a coffee on the offending teacher. Principal Nedzu was not Aizawa. He had been covering the teacher's ass because that was his job.

Which didn't mean Tokio wasn't still annoyed about him not overruling Aizawa, but that was a subject best put aside at the moment.

She bowed, and he gestured to a chair beside him. Aizawa sat on one at his other side.

Tokio looked at the two people staring at her. Aizawa had crossed his arms and submerged in his scarf again, seemingly ready to take a nap. Come to think of it, Kanade had mentioned something about him sleeping in class.

She threw him a dirty sideways glance and asked at nobody in particular, "What is going on? Eraserhead mentioned that someone may be targeting me."

"That seems to be the case," Nedzu said. Kawamura wasn't a very talkative man, and he seemed happy to do the honors. "You have heard about inspector Sekiji's disappearance, yes? We think both issues are connected."

"I was questioned about it a few days ago. I thought you were working with the idea that she left voluntarily?"

"And you were adamant that it couldn't be, despite circumstantial evidence," Kawamura said. "Eraserhead was of the same mind."

Tokio sent a surprised glance his way, but he didn't react in any way, merely staring at Kawamura with apparent disinterest. She wasn't so sure that was the case, though.

"And you have changed theories?" She asked.

"Think about it this way," Nedzu began. "The first hypothesis only led to us closing the case. What you suggested opened a new path for the investigation, and Miss Sekiji being a police officer—"

"We would have closed the case if she had been a civilian," Kawamura intervened. "But she isn't, and a vanishing inspector isn't something we can overlook."

Impervious to the interruption, Nedzu said, "Are you aware of the case inspector Sekiji was working on alongside Eraserhead, Miss Nakajima?"

"No. We never talked about her work."

Aizawa nodded lightly to himself in the background.

"Good, good," Nedzu said, satisfied. "You see, Sekiji's investigation revolved around organized crime, and there were two main theories after her disappearance:" He lifted just one finger, but he couldn't bend the others all the way, so it looked odd. He did have opposable thumbs. "One, that it was the doing of the group she was investigating. Two, that she had sensed the danger and decided to leave before the situation got uglier. Of course, the police didn't completely discard the first option, but the second was likelier, given how she disappeared."

"It seemed too clean to be a crime," Kawamura admitted, "until yesterday, at least."

"Do you mean the car crash?" When Kawamura made an affirmative gesture, she asked, "How is that related to Sekiji?"

"Inspector Sekiji didn't have many friends," he said. "It comes with the job. So when drawing a list of people to interrogate, your name turned up very soon."

"Anyone who looked into her would find that connection," Nedzu continued. "And you met every day, didn't you? So, say, if she had to confide about her job to anybody... wouldn't you say you are a likely option?"

Tokio looked back and forth between both men. "I told you, she never talked to me about work, and I never asked. Besides, if she had to anything to share, why wouldn't she tell a coworker? She spent all day here."

"A coworker would know she shouldn't be sharing details about the investigation," Kawamura said.

"Inspector, I don't need to be a police officer to know that."

He looked at her sternly, but didn't reply. Tokio felt once again that there was something else at play here. If this was about organized crime, it couldn't have been just Sekiji and Aizawa working on it. There had to have been more people in the investigation that Sekiji could talk to if she wanted. So why would they assume she wanted to talk to someone from outside, specifically?

And speaking of not talking to people… hadn't Aizawa told her something of the sort?

She had thought it was because they didn't want rumors about the investigation, so they kept the info to a limited few. But as far as she knew, Present Mic and Midnight weren't related to the investigation, and they had been two of the four people she had been told to pass info to, if she had anything.

She knew they were friends with Aizawa. Trust was the only thing going for them in this issue. So did that mean Aizawa didn't think he could trust anybody else with info about the case?

Maybe they weren't being so secretive to keep rumors from spreading. People had had to notice at this point that something was going on.

Maybe…

"Do you think there's a mole in the police?" She concluded out loud.

There was a shift in atmosphere, like her question had broken whatever was tensing the air. Kawamura's shoulders squared, Nedzu looked at her curiously, and Aizawa didn't look sleepy anymore when he turned to look at her.

"Why would you think so?" Nedzu asked.

"Because if Sekiji was worried about the investigation, I don't see how she couldn't tell one of her coworkers. Her speaking to me would only make sense if she trusted them less than me, and we weren't that close. Besides," Tokio added. "I was told to only speak to inspector Kawamura or Eraserhead if I remembered something that stood out."

"Or Mic, or Midnight," Aizawa spoke up.

"Because you know you can trust them, right?"

Aizawa made an affirmative sound, and no one denied her theory.

Nedzu smiled. "This saves us time indeed," he said cordially. "It's as you say, so we need to ask you that you don't speak of this to anybody."

"I think that's enough." Kawamura's voice was gruff. "I don't like this one bit."

There was an unspoken accusation in the air.

"Do you suspect me now?" Tokio asked, tentatively.

"You've come to a conclusion quickly. Too quickly to not know anything."

There he was, yet another person assuming she was stupid because she served coffees for a living. She had noticed the tendency among police and pro heroes early on, shortly after she'd dropped out of school and had had to deal with having a super smart and successful hero at home while she looked after a baby.

She bit back a scathing comment that would have gotten her in trouble.

"The fact remains that someone attacked her yesterday on her way home," Aizawa said, surprising her, "and the car crash was likely another attempt. Given what we've told her, it's not hard to put two and two together. I think she's clear."

"They could be trying to get rid of her after she isn't useful anymore," Kawamura countered. "We can't tell."

"But that won't be a problem, will it?" Nedzu said in a conciliatory tone. "We've gone over this possibility before."

"…Right." Kawamura conceded.

"Perfect." Nedzu clapped his hands. "So, Miss Nakajima, since you are sadly a suspect in this case, but most importantly, a likely target, we are going to install an alarm system in your home and assign am escort to you—"

Aizawa tensed in his seat and began to speak, alarmed. "Hey—"

At the same time, Tokio said with obvious incredulity, "You're going to put me under surveill—"

"—so you can remain safe while the investigation is wrapped up. Surely you have wondered why I am here—"

"Principal," Aizawa insisted, but he was ignored.

"—and the reason would be that I'm lending one of Yuuei's teachers to the task, since his schedule has been rather empty since a certain incident we shall not name, and he was involved in Miss Sekiji's case to begin with."

Aizawa was petrified in his chair, eyes wide at Nedzu and mouth open in indignation.

Tokio wondered if this was a punishment from the gods for her caffeinated vengeance.

No, more likely, it had to be a punishment from Nedzu to Aizawa for all the shit he'd had to deal with after he mass-expelled his students.

"No," was her reply.

"I agree," Aizawa said.

"The decision isn't up to you," Kawamura said, glaring at the two of them. Aizawa looked like he wanted to say many things, and no doubt they would offend every person in the room.

Nedzu ignored the tension in the air and kept talking with the same calm, pleasant tone that admitted no objections. "I understand that you have a few days off from work while your workplace is repaired, and while you may stay home alone, we ask that you give us notice when you need to leave your apartment so your escort can be with you."

"This is absurd," she said. "I don't need a bodyguard for daily life."

"Again," Kawamura replied, "that isn't for you to decide."

"What am I supposed to do, call every time I need to go to the corner store?"

"I object as well," Aizawa intervened, and for a change, he and Tokio were on the same page. "Give this job to someone else. I should be catching villains, not tailing civilians."

"You should be teaching a class," Nedzu said, never losing his smile, but the way his eyes glinted indicated danger, "and since you cannot do that anymore, this is what Yuuei will have you do instead. You can keep heroing at night, as always. Unless Miss Nakajima is fond of late night outings?"

"I think not," she said drily.

Nedzu smiled at her. "Then it's settled. Since your daughter goes to a hero course, we think she'll be reasonably protected during her lessons, but we have made the necessary arrangements with the school anyway. We'll have someone to protect her outside," Nedzu said, as if the situation was fun while it was very much not, and gave Tokio a slip of paper. "This is professor Aizawa's schedule at school. Please try to not make appointments outside of home during the few lessons he has."

As she stared at the paper, she thought she could mentally fill the gaps with Kanade's old schedule, and then she conveniently remembered that she had a daughter who needed to be somewhat clued into this. She was pretty sure that it would be easier to explain that someone was trying to kill her than telling her that the person supposed to avoid it was her former homeroom teacher.

Tokio let out a mix between a resigned sigh and a groan, and fanned herself with the schedule while Nedzu and Kawamura vacated the office, leaving her alone with Aizawa, whose face was hidden behind his scarf and the hand rubbing his forehead. Much to her chagrin, she shared his feelings.


	5. Lungo

Here we are again after a monstrously long wait. I'd like to say that I'll update soon from now on, but the other fic's still ongoing, so updates for this one are going to be erratic at best, same as until now. I don't intend to abandon it, far from it, but I want to be clear, because the next chapter will probably take ages.

But warnings aside, wow. Thank you so much, everybody who has reviewed these past months. I've never written for a fandom this active before and I didn't expect such a big response. I'm glad you like the story so far! I really wish I could pour all my time into this and give you what you deserve. I'll do what I can!

* * *

 **Lungo**

As expected, Kanade was only slightly less horrified by the possibility of having too see Aizawa again than her mother being a target of the mob.

Tokio couldn't blame her. The gangsters were a faraway, entirely foreign territory in their minds, but Aizawa was very real and also a prick. Even Tokio thought it was the more disastrous outcome of the situation, so far, mainly because the police's theory sounded so farfetched.

On the other hand, Kanade took reasonably well to being watched after school. She made it into a game of figuring out when she was being tailed and how, and Tokio suspected she had come up with a spy movie in her head and she was living it to the fullest. Whatever made the situation easier for her.

All in all, it could have been much worse, the arrangement was going to be temporary and her routine hadn't really been affected, but it didn't keep Kanade from sending pity looks at her mom whenever she mentioned she'd gone outside.

For Tokio, things didn't transition so smoothly.

The first obstacle she faced was the desolate state of her kitchen cupboards. Rice, pasta, and chocolate milk, along with a veggie bags in the freezer. There was also instant ramen, curry tablets, and half an onion stashed in the fridge. No tea, because she'd run out of the cheap stuff the day of the accident and had meant to go buy some after work.

She grimaced as she looked at the contents of her purse when she decided that she needed to buy groceries for two.

But more than that, she really didn't want to go shopping with someone watching over her shoulder and judging her while she hunted for bargains.

With a reluctance she hadn't felt since she had to clean the bathroom of the café when a someone with a stomach bug did a number on it (she had been new, and desperate to keep the job, and after three months of throwing up when she got pregnant she had foolishly thought nothing could deter her), she sent a message to Aizawa.

' _Can I go grocery shopping alone?'_

' _I'll be there.'_

She dropped on the couch, limp like a wet noodle. The last thing she had expected after their first interaction was having his number a month later. She did not want it. Could life start throwing curveballs at somebody else, please?

Sekiji would be laughing at her if she saw the situation, but she did not want to think about that.

After a too short wait, the bell rang like the day before, only this time she expected the person outside. Otherwise, it was exactly the same. Same thrilled-to-see-you face on both sides, same clothes for both, same awkward silence.

She put on a pair of grey sneakers, grabbed her purse from a hanger, and left the apartment.

"I'm just picking up a few things. The place I go to is kind of far from here. You really don't have to come." She had to plead her case one last time before letting it go.

"The farther it is, the more reason you shouldn't go alone."

She shrugged with no energy to argue and led the way.

The next fifteen minutes were spent in uncomfortable silence. Tokio knew how much time had passed because she'd had nothing more interesting to do than sneak glances at her watch. The temptation to put on her earbuds was strong, but she didn't want to be _that_ rude. Yet.

If she had to guess, she'd say that Aizawa was either wondering why they hadn't taken the bus to the supermarket, or why his employer hated him so much. Possibly both things at once.

She started to make bland apologies, not because she was sorry, rather, to have something to say. "I never take the bus to the store, that's why I said you didn't need to come…" The actual reason was that the bus cost money and she was going to take advantage of her legs for as long as they let her.

"I don't mind."

And the minuscule embers of conversation died before they could set anything on fire.

Like the person who had had the bright idea to make them spend time together.

She gave it another awkward, dispirited try. "Were you at school when I texted you?"

"Yeah."

He didn't elaborate. Tokio got the hint and shut up.

The street was devoid of anything remotely interesting that may have distracted her from the deeply uncomfortable silence. She was hoping for something, any sort of interruption, from a villain attack to a clown in a unicycle, but the goddess of mercy was clearly on vacation or having too much fun at her expense.

Another ten minutes of walking and they reached the park next to the supermarket, which was always empty during school hours, and she couldn't stand it anymore.

"All right, I'm sorry!" She exclaimed, stopping without warning and throwing her hands in the air. Her purse slapped hard against her leg at the sudden gesture. "I'm sorry I flung that stupid Americano at you," _Lie._ "And I'm sorry that we're now stuck in this ridiculous situation, but would it kill you to talk to me so we can get through this without actively suffering every second we spend together?!"

Aizawa had watched her outburst with wide eyes but an otherwise calm demeanor. His reply matched the latter. "I assumed you didn't want to make conversation."

Tokio blinked several times while she scrambled for a reply. She had tried to talk to him, hadn't she? On the other hand… she supposed it was fair to assume that she felt resentful towards him and the whole situation and would rather ignore him.

And, well, she was resentful. And she wouldn't have chosen to spend her time with him, but if she couldn't help it, the least she could do was at least to make sure that the company wasn't excruciating.

Tokio, then, came to a realization.

Maybe he wasn't hostile, as she had assumed in every single one of their interactions. Maybe he just was _this_ socially awkward.

She shuffled her feet and kicked at the dirt absentmindedly while looking at his face. "Look, I know we'd both rather be doing anything else, but if this is how it has to be, I think it's better to make the best we can of it."

"I agree," he said, and she thought he sounded more relaxed than before. "We don't know how long this is going to take, so the logical thing would be to try to get along."

All right. She could work with that. She didn't feel so relieved by the comment about the case, though. "You aren't any closer to finding a culprit?"

He tilted his head slightly and looked to the side. "We don't even have proof of the crime. If it's the same people after you, the only lead we have is the driver of the crashed car."

"You found out something about him?"

"It's what led me to believe that you were in danger." He looked around discreetly. Though the park was desert, he said, "We can talk somewhere private later."

Tokio noted that he had said _me_ , not _us_. She guessed that Kawamura hadn't agreed.

"That sounds good. So…" She regarded him cautiously, weighing if the truce she wanted to offer was worth the risk of getting rebuffed. She was swallowing a lot of pride to say this, because she may not have had money, or a career, or two working brain cells on a bad day, but if there was something she wasn't lacking, it was pride. "Can we start from the beginning? I try to forget that you expelled Kanade. You try to forget about the Americano." She extended an open hand towards him. Her left, because the right was more bandages than flesh at the moment. "I'm Tokio Nakajima. Nice to meet you."

He eyed her hand, but he didn't seem wary. He was, however, going over his own considerations, but finally he took her hand and shook it. "Shouta Aizawa. Likewise." He blinked. "I've had worse thrown at me."

The attempt at a lighthearted comment put Tokio at ease for the first time since she had learned of Sekiji's disappearance.

"Is that a challenge?" She asked.

"No," he quickly answered, letting go and stuffing his hand in a pocket.

She swallowed her laughter, and she could have sworn that he wasn't sulking as hard as before. "The supermarket's over there," she pointed in the same direction she started walking in. "It's somewhat far from home, but it's cheap."

"You save money and you get exercise. It's a win-win if you have the time."

"Right?" Tokio's eyes brightened at the unexpected support. "I don't come here that often because I don't have the time, but when I do I like to stock up. And lucky me," she added, smiling sweetly at Aizawa, "today I have an extra pair of arms to help!"

Aizawa didn't look happy about that, but Tokio didn't care. She had already said she intended to make the most out of this.

—

"Wait!"

They were one block away from her apartment when she made a turn for a tea shop.

"Seriously?" He said, eyeing the sign over the front door. "Couldn't you get this at the supermarket?"

"No way," she said, pushing the door with her right forearm, from which hung two plastic bags. "Those teabags are trash." There were another three in her left hand, and she couldn't use her right.

Aizawa followed after her wearily, carrying even more bags than her. She hadn't lied when she said she meant to stock up. It would take a few weeks for the café to be running again, and she had to eat home until then.

The cats had to eat, too. She had bought a few cans of wet food to bring them one of those days.

The man behind the counter smiled, showing them a few missing teeth. He was as old as his shop, which was full to bursting with cans of teas and spices, and barely any light came through the narrow windows near the ceiling.

"Good morning, Nakajima. It's odd to see you here so early. And with company." He stared at her more attentively, pushing down his half-moon glasses, and noticed the bandage around her hand. "Did you get hurt at work?"

"Just a little cut." She lifted her arm along with the bags and waved her hand. "Looks worse than it is."

He pushed the glasses up again. "That's good to hear. Come to pick the usual?"

"Please?" She said.

The man gave her three paper bags that she put with the rest of her groceries, and she paid more for them than what good sense dictated she should, but she could drown the guilt later with beverages.

When they were out, Aizawa asked, "Are you a regular?"

"Sort of. When the budget allows it," she said, and she started a battle with her purse to fish out the keys while not dropping any of the bags. After a failed struggle, Aizawa took the two bags in her right arm to help her out. "Thanks," she said and after picking up the keys and looking up, he looked at him and everything he was carrying. "You're stronger than you look. I need to hire you when I go out shopping."

"I'll pass."

"Shame," she said, shrugging with her right shoulder only. "And I don't think I've got anything I can bribe you with."

At the door of her apartment, it seemed like Aizawa was ready to let the bags down and go, but Tokio stopped him before he did. "Can I offer you a coffee or a tea? I want to hear more about the car accident."

"Sure," he said. "Though it wasn't an accident."

"Intriguing," she said, putting her keys back in her purse and hanging it behind the door. She kicked off her sneakers and picked up from Aizawa the bags she was carrying before, plus some more. Her hand complained, and so did her legs. "Sit wherever you like, though I'm afraid there isn't much space." She laughed awkwardly. "And there isn't a coffee table."

She dragged the groceries to the kitchen, though instead of heading to the living room, Aizawa followed her to leave the last bags on the kitchen counter. She was already in the middle of stuffing some of the food in the fridge and the freezer.

"Thanks," she told him when she was done. She pulled out the three paper bags, picked one, and put the other two inside a cupboard, and then turned on an electric kettle. "Coffee or tea?"

"Depends on how you plan on serving the coffee."

Tokio wasn't sure if that was a joke or a jab. "Not doing so hot on the forgetting front, are we?"

"I'm trying." He was sticking to the terms of the deal, technically.

"Mm-hm." She picked up a box of colorful capsules. "Let's see if I can tell what kind of coffee you like."

He peered at the capsules. "I figured you'd have a more traditional coffee maker."

"It was a present. The coffee is kind of expensive, but everybody says it's good, so I keep it for visits. And these," she picked up a white one with light brown stripes, "are a soft blend with caramel that Kanade drinks with milk sometimes. Doesn't smell like coffee at all, to be honest."

"You don't drink it?"

"I don't like coffee. I could try to hide it with milk, but I'm lactose intolerant. Anyway," she looked up at him, "you look like a black coffee kind of person. A long shot, not an espresso." Like an Americano, maybe. She kept the comment to herself. "With sugar? Sounds about right."

His face didn't indicate if she was correct. "What's the reasoning behind that? Or are you just making it up?"

"Not at all. There's solid logic going on here." She searched in the box until she found a purple capsule. "You seem the type of person that drinks coffee to stay alive, not because you particularly enjoy it." The circles under his eyes seemed to grow darker. An optical illusion for sure. Tokio blamed the fact that the kitchen didn't have any windows. "Shorter shots pack more of a punch, but people who ask for them want to savor the coffee. Longer shots are easier to drink and keep company while doing other things. Like grading tests?" She suggested with a smile.

"And the sugar?"

"Extra energy. Keeps you alert." She put the box back in its place and the purple capsule near the coffee maker. "So? Was I very far off the mark?"

"It's two sugars," he said. "To kill the bitterness."

"Heh." She placed the capsule in the machine, filled the deposit with water, and set a cup under the siphon. "Armchair psychoanalysis is always fun to do."

Click. The machine rumbled to life.

She'd thought he'd leave it at that, but now it was him who seemed to be making an effort to keep the conversation going. "What's the success ratio?"

"I don't keep a tally, but relatively high." She put some tea leaves from the bag she had selected inside a ball infuser, poured water from the kettle in a mug, and submerged the ball in it. She took a sideways glance at the coffee machine and slowed it down so she could stop it in time, before the shot got too long. "Happens when you serve a lot of coffees every day." She stepped aside and gestured at the cup. "Go ahead. I won't touch it. Don't want to be a repeat offender. I'll take out the sugar."

"I appreciate the precaution," he said with a hint of sourness.

Tokio got the sugar bowl along with her mug and a small saucer and followed after Aizawa. They sat at the dinner table, and while she was setting down everything, he asked, "How does it work?"

"Hm?"

"Your quirk."

"Oh." She had just used it without thinking. She had used it during the crash, too, so it was natural he'd be curious. Earlier, she had used it on him. _Bad thought_. Concentrate on answering. "I look at things and I slow them down while I'm making eye contact."

"Only when you're making eye contact?"

"Yeah. It can be more than one thing at once, but I can't look away. Why, isn't your quirk like that?"

"I can look away." Two sugars, indeed. "The effect wears off when I blink."

"Huh. Now I'm jealous," she said. The green tea she was brewing looked fine already, so she took the ball by the chain and set it on the saucer. "Can you reactivate it right away?"

"No. There's a short refractory period after each use."

"That must suck in fights."

"As long as the enemy doesn't know, it doesn't really come into play." He stared at her with curiosity. "You can reactivate it pretty fast, can't you?"

She fiddled with her mug's handle. "As soon as I focus my eyes."

"Figures," he said. He didn't even sound accusatory, but she was sure he was filing this knowledge for later use. "Your pupils turn clockwise while your quirk activates." He had noticed it during their first meeting, according to Midnight, and he still remembered. Tokio wanted to shrink in her seat. Why had she invited him in? "Does that have any effect?"

"Other than giving myself away? None whatsoever."

He nodded and took a sip of the coffee. "It is good," he said.

Tokio felt some pride at that. She had only pushed a button, but she had been able to tell which blend he'd like.

He brought her out of her thoughts when he went back to business, though. "About the car crash… What do you want to know?"

"I don't know. What can you tell me?"

"Technically, nothing. I am not authorized to disclose information on the case to civilians unless it's on a need-to-know basis."

She threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. A piece of plaster near the light was about to fall. "Great."

"However," he continued, prompting her to look at him, "I think it's fair you knew. Don't tell Kawamura I gave you any details, though."

"Why are you willing to tell me?"

"Because I think you may be able to help us yet to find Sekiji. We're short on leads, and you are the best we have right now. Kawamura is a good inspector, but he's too inflexible. We aren't in a position to refuse help."

The mention of her friend piqued her interest. "Did you work with her for long?"

"Half a year," he said. "Long enough to know she wouldn't run away. You?"

"I've known her for twelve years," she replied. Aizawa seemed surprised to hear that. "Didn't you know?"

"We weren't aware you went that far back."

"I saw her every day since I moved here and she started to work at the station. I just realized a few weeks ago that we didn't even have each other's' numbers. Isn't that odd?" She let out a slow breath through her nose and closed her eyes for a moment. It was painful to think now she had taken her for granted. "It doesn't matter. What can you tell me?"

"Not that much, as things stand. We've identified the man – I won't tell you his name, for obvious reasons – and he was the owner of a small company. He tested positive for alcohol, had a history of gambling and debts."

"That sounds like a suicide attempt to me," she said.

"I would," he agreed, "but you do you know the Shijima group?"

Tokio shook her head.

"They are the cover for the organization Sekiji and I were investigating, and they own half of the pachinko halls in the city. Connect the dots."

"Makes some sense." She rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands, looking down at her tea in thought. "I suppose they could make him crash into the store to settle a debt he couldn't pay."

"It's a theory for now. We're trying to look into that connection, but since the incident was officially deemed an accident, we still need to get permission to proceed."

"What, how? Didn't you say that you thought it wasn't an accident?"

"I do, and so does inspector Kawamura, but we have no proof. The rest of the force is operating under the assumption of an accident."

"But you're here. They don't assign escorts on a hunch."

Aizawa drank from his cup and looked like he was thinking back on many of his life choices when he said, "Principal Nedzu."

Ah. So it had been that crafty rodent's idea. He lost a few respect points from Tokio in that moment.

"He must be really pissed at you," she said point blank, and took a sip from her tea. She wasn't going to be delicate about the expulsion if he couldn't be delicate about the Americano.

Aizawa's expression turned into a full-blown grimace, and he looked to the side. "It could have been worse," he said, contradicting his own face. "I knew he'd come up with something sooner or later." Something the way he was looking seemed to catch his attention.

Tokio paid no mind to it. "I suppose you can count yourself lucky that you didn't get fired after so many parents complained."

"I don't know if lucky's the right word," he replied without looking at her. "Is that your daughter?"

Tokio turned her head to the side. He was looking at a picture on a shelf. A small Kanade was sitting on Tokio's knees, and her grandparents sat at each side of the pair.

Tokio smiled unintentionally when she saw it. "Yeah. She was three, we had just moved to Tokyo, and the grandparents came to visit from the countryside."

And the Tokio in the picture was smiling, but looked as tired as the current one. Twenty and too young to be on the receiving end of so many blows.

Then again, that Tokio didn't have lines under her eyes yet, or aching feet, or a banged up hand. She still had the sweeter end of the bargain.

Hold on, girl, she thought. You can take everything the world throws at you, a kid, a twelve-hour shift, a flying car—

"And those are your parents?"

Aizawa's question forced her to leave her thoughts. "My former in-laws. My parents don't want anything to do with us." She shrugged, closing her eyes briefly. "Good riddance, if you ask me."

He hummed and had the sense not to insist on the subject.

"Well," he said after a brief silence, startling Tokio, "I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. Thanks for the coffee."

She stood up in a hurry to accompany him to the door. It was four steps away, but it was just polite to do so. "No, thank you for the help," she said, surprised that she was being sincere on that account. She alone could carry half of what she had bought at best, and she was injured now. "I'll try not to go out much."

"Tell me whenever you do. If anything happens to you, it falls on me."

She nodded in resignation. "Okay."

She waited until he rode the elevator to close the door.

It hadn't been as disastrous as expected, but she still didn't look forward to have him tagging along everywhere she went.

Good thing she never did anything other than run errands and work, she thought, flopping on the couch. Her tea was half-finished and the groceries were still on the kitchen counter, but they could wait until her body stopped protesting…

—

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Tokio opened her eyes slowly and saw Kanade's face above her.

What the— how many hours—

She sat up and looked through the window. The sky was turning pink. She glared accusingly at her hand. This was the last time she took painkillers for something so silly. Doctors always made a mountain out of a molehill.

"Yeah. Just fell asleep for a while. How was school?"

"We went to a _huge_ jungle gym to practice with our quirks. It was fun!" She looked back with a brusque movement and then back at Tokio, prompting some jingling. "But no wonder you were tired, you bought a lot. How many trips did you make?"

Tokio looked at the table and saw the coffee cup still sitting there. She didn't think Kanade had noticed it, and thought about retrieving it as soon as possible so she didn't ask questions. The less she had to remember Aizawa, the better.

"That's a secret," she replied.

She thought of the small thing in the picture she'd been looking at with Aizawa. Kanade was now much taller and had shorter hair, but the baby fat hadn't still abandoned her face, and Tokio had to resist the urge to pinch her cheeks.

Instead, she announced, "Mom attack!"

Kanade, who was quick on her feet, tried to flee as soon as she guessed her mom's intentions, but Tokio slowed her down before she could escape, lunged at her and dragged her onto the couch with a bear hug.

"You cheated! You— Cheater!"

Kanade was struggling to get out of her grasp, but she was careful not to pull hard at Tokio's right hand, so she couldn't do much.

"Is that what you're gonna tell a villain when they get you?"

"You aren't a villain! It's still cheating!" Kanade made an attempt to shake her wrists, and a very annoying jingle started to come out of them. Tokio heard the glass of the living room cupboard vibrate.

Until she slowed Kanade again, that was. "No quirks of mass-destruction allowed at home, missy."

"Not fair," she said, resistance gone. Tokio patted her head a few times and slipped out of the couch, leaving a defeated Kanade there. "You took advantage of me. I can't use my quirk. I can't get rid of your grip without hurting you. I _trusted_ you," she said dramatically.

Tokio took the mug and the cup from the table while Kanade was distracted whining and took them to the kitchen. "That sounds like I'd make a pretty good villain. Do you think I should change jobs?"

"But then I'd have to catch you."

"I'd catch you first." Cup and mug in sink. Water running. Soap on sponge.

"No way! I know where you live!"

"And I know your weak points." Coffee traces wiped from cup.

"I don't have weak points."

Tokio paused. "I hope Present Mic hasn't found a better coffee shop by the time we reopen," she said with a dreamy sigh. "It would be a shame not to see him again. He's one of my favorite customers. _So_ charming."

Kanade seemed to choke on something back in the living room, and next thing Tokio knew, there was a thunderous sound of bells and a pillow from the couch had come flying through the kitchen door and landed on the shopping bags.

She cackled and Kanade protested. "I DON'T LIKE HIM."

Tokio rinsed the cup, the mug and the saucer, and set them aside to dry.

She smiled.

A perfect crime.


End file.
